


When I See You With Him, My Whole World Falls Apart

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn Malik is dark and handsome, while Draco Malfoy is tall and can reach books. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore watches them make out against a bookcase. </p><p> </p><p>For a prompt on my Dumbledore/One Direction blog asking for Draco Malfoy to be in love with Zayn and for Dumbledore to be jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I See You With Him, My Whole World Falls Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to take a moment to apologize for how out of character Draco is... especially given the context. This is set after the war, after everyone's returned to school to finish what they've missed. If this were a serious fic, Draco would probably be extremely emotionally damaged. As it is, he acts more like a love-struck teenager than anything else. I can't blame him. The ending is probably a bit rushed, but it was getting way out of hand, and I needed an end. Also, considering this is for my Dumbledore blog, it's super heavy on the Draco. Massively so.

Draco had always been a good Potions student. Even when classes had been held with just the Gryffindors, he'd managed to create excellent potions, despite the distracting presence of an all-too-mockable Harry Potter. However, now that he was in Newt-level Potions, in which interested and qualified members of all houses took part, he was finding that his grades were slipping.

The fault lay in the hands of Ravenclaw Zayn Malik. Zayn brought new meaning to the phrase "tall, dark, and handsome." Well, perhaps not _tall_ , Draco amended inwardly, as he himself had several inches on Zayn, but the extent to which Zayn was handsome more than made up for the lack of height. Draco had once felt that he lay claim to both the best bone structure and indeed the best coif in Hogwarts, but that was before he had encountered Zayn, whose immaculately styled quiff and defined cheekbones were second-to-none.

It was this blatant and thoroughly unfair attractiveness that had Draco's potions abilities at a rapid decline. Who could blame him for gazing at Zayn, though, really, when the alternative was staring at the ever repugnant Slughorn?  

In addition to his devastating looks, Zayn was talented. Somehow, Zayn managed to brew impeccable potions each lesson, even though he spent most of the instruction time drawing on spare bits of parchment. Draco spent more time than he'd care to admit trying to catch glimpses of these drawings, and hoping to one day see his own face replicated by Zayn's careful hand.

What with the Zayn-instigated deterioration in his grades, it came as no surprise to Draco when he was held back after class one day. Draco's eyes trailed Zayn all the way out of the classroom, cursing the school robes for concealing what was no doubt a perfectly sculpted ass, before he finally gave Slughorn his full attention.

"You wanted to speak with me sir?"

"Yes, my boy," Slughorn replied. "I'm rather concerned about your grades! You used to be one of my best students, but lately your grades have been - let's face it, Mr. Malfoy - rather dismal."

Draco regarded him blandly, wishing he were still staring at Zayn.

"I suppose they have been, sir, yes."

Slughorn carried on, unperturbed by Draco's apathy.

"Well, we'd best do something about that, my boy. Are you finding the lessons too difficult?"

"I guess," Draco intoned, thoughts focused not on the conversation at hand, but rather on the thought of how Zayn's long fingers would look interlocked with Draco's, rather than curled gently around a quill.

"Might I suggest a tutor?" Slughorn asked. "I don't know if you're friends with Mr. Malik - he's a tremendously talented pupil, Ravenclaw, you know, very bright. I believe he's considering teaching as a profession, so he might be interested in the opportunity to help a fellow student."

Draco snapped to attention. "Malik?" he said sharply. "He's looking to tutor?"

"Well, I don't know for certain," said Slughorn, "but he might be. It certainly doesn't hurt to ask! Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my boy, that's what I always say."

Draco nodded. "Yes. Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Yes." Draco then paused, realizing that, although keen to study with Zayn, he couldn't fathom the thought of approaching him and asking for help.

"Sir, could you, perhaps, have the Headmistress arrange something, so Malik can get house points out of it? I'd feel terribly guilty if he provided his services without any form of recompense."

Slughorn clapped him on the shoulder.

"Of course I can, Mr. Malfoy, of course I can. It's good to see you thinking of others! Now, run along, before you're late to your next class. I'll have the headmistress sort something out, and then one of us will let you know what's going on with Mr. Malik."

"Thank you, sir," said Draco, mind already alight with fantasies about what their tutoring session would entail.

\--

Draco was spying on Zayn in the library when a first year Ravenclaw tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to whip around, heart beating rapidly.

"What, what is it, what do you want?" he snarled, irritated by having been caught off guard while stalking someone.

The first year could barely speak through his intimidation. "I, er, well, I'm sorry, I, er."

"Well? Out with it!" Draco exclaimed harshly, attracting the attention of several students in the vicinity. Zayn's head, he noticed, remained bowed over his book.

"Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office, um, she, um, she said the password's, um, um, um -"

"UM, UM, UM," Draco repeated scornfully. This time, Zayn did look up. "Please tell me you remember the password."

The first year looked to be near tears.

"Hey, mate," Zayn called, setting down his book and standing up. Draco's heart fluttered in his chest. He stared as Zayn made his way over. Even his walk was attractive. His legs were so nice. Draco couldn't see his legs beneath the robes, but he was sure that they were nice. Draco was utterly _gone_ for Zayn Malik.

"Yeah?" he said breathily. "I mean... _yeah_?" he reiterated, slightly more confrontationally.

"It was probably scary enough for a first year to talk to the headmistress," Zayn asserted, "give him a break, he doesn't need to be intimidated by you, too." He turned to the first year. "It's okay, Jeremy," he said, his voice softer now, "You've done really well. Can you remember the password?"

"It was, it was _Thaddeus Thurkell_. She wanted you to go to her office, too, Mr. Malik, sir."

Zayn smiled graciously. Draco felt tears springing to his eyes, such was the beauty of Zayn's smile. His lips. Those amazing lips. Those teeth. Draco had never before been attracted to teeth, but Zayn's teeth. _Zayn's teeth._ Zayn's teeth in his beautiful, smiling mouth. Draco felt a bit faint.

"You can call me Zayn, Jeremy, it's alright. Thanks for the message." Zayn ruffled Jeremy's hair affectionately.

Draco didn't understand how the first year was still upright. Zayn Malik was touching him. Zayn Malik's hand had graced his hair. Why wasn't he affected? Surely someone as godlike as Zayn couldn't touch a mere mortal without any consequences.

Draco was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Zayn making to leave until Zayn turned around and asked if he was coming. He tried desperately not to think of coming with Zayn in any context other than following him to the Headmistress' office.

"What?"he said, dazedly.

"To McGonagall's office. Are you coming?"

"Oh. Yes, of course."

"Hurry up, then, why don't you? She'll not be best pleased if we keep her waiting."

At that, Zayn strolled from the library, without sparing a second glance backwards at Draco. Draco rushed to follow, still marvelling at the grace with which Zayn moved. Not for the first time, he wondered why Zayn didn't play quidditch. With his ease of movent and slender physique, Zayn would have been the perfect seeker. Even more importantly, if Zayn were to play to quidditch, then, during matches against Ravenclaw, Draco could pretend to be confused about whose change room was whose and perhaps accidentally catch Zayn without his robes on.

Realizing he was lagging, Draco snapped out of his thoughts and hastened to keep up with Zayn.

"I'm Draco, by the way," he said.

"I know who you are. I'm Zayn," Zayn replied.

Draco could have swooned.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Yes, I know who you are, too. Zayn Malik. Zayn Maliky Malik of Ravenclaw. Zayn of the loveliest cheekbones in all the land. Zayn of the majestic hair. Zayn Malik. _Zayn_ Malik."

Draco couldn't stop babbling. He knew he should stop, but he couldn't. He just kept rambling on, repeating Zayn's name with different, and increasingly adulatory inflection.

"Right," Zayn replied, his beautiful voice resting on the "i" for awhile, before going on to finish saying the word.

"I mean," said Draco, forcibly schooling his voice into a less fanatical tone, "Slughorn. He mentioned - he said - he was talking about you."

"Alright," Zayn said skeptically. "And he referred to me as Zayn Maliky Malik of the mighty cheekbones, did he, then? That's a bit odd, mate."

"Yes, well," Draco was still endeavouring to sound flippant, "he's only human. You have cheekbones. And, you know, hair. He was bound to notice."

"You have cheekbones. And hair. Did he notice _your_ cheekbones and hair?"

"I'm sure he did," Draco sniffed, "he was probably just too intimidated to bring up my attractiveness in front of me. Can you blame him?"

Zayn stopped walking and stared intently into Draco's eyes. Draco braced himself against the wall to avoid collapsing under the intensity of Zayn's gaze.

"No," said Zayn, breaking his eyes free from their contact with Draco's and allowing them to roam slowly over Draco's body. "No, I couldn't blame him. You are... intimidating."

Draco's hand slipped from its position on the wall.

"Am I?" he said, in what he hoped was a sultry manner.

Zayn smirked. " _Thaddeus Thurkell,"_ he said.

 _"What?"_ Draco stared at him blankly.

"It's the password," Zayn replied.

Draco had barely had time to ponder what this could mean - was a password the same thing as a safeword? Was Thaddeus Thurkell _Zayn's_ safeword? Did Zayn want to have sex with him? What was going on? - before Zayn moved aside to reveal the entrance to the Headmistress' office, where a stone gargoyle had just sprung to life to allow them to pass.

Draco tried not to feel too disappointed. "Oh," he said.

Draco and Zayn ascended the staircase behind the gargoyle at a leisurely pace, Draco ogling the back of Zayn's head the whole way up. Draco thought that Zayn might have the nicest neck he'd ever seen. Eventually, they reached the office. The door was open welcomingly, but professor McGonagall was nowhere to be seen. The two hovered uncertainly in the doorway, before a portrait called out to them.

"Stop loitering and come in already, won't you?"

The two boys jumped, startled, at the voice of Severus Snape.

"Oh, of course. Yes. Um, hullo, Professor Snape," Zayn said. "Alright?"

The lips on the portrait of Severus Snape thinned. "Yes, Mr. Malik. I suppose I am as 'alright,' as a portrait of a dead person can be. Thank you so much for asking."

Zayn scowled at him. Draco found Snape's response to be rather amusing, actually, but opted to scowl at him, too, in solidarity.

For a few moments, the two of them milled about the office in silence. Well, Zayn milled. Draco watched Zayn mill. He watched as Zayn gazed at the tattered old sorting hat; he watched as Zayn examined the artistry on a portrait, before getting yelled at by the portrait's occupant for making her uncomfortable; he watched Zayn's hasty retreat to a cabinet on the other side of the room.

"This is a nice cabinet. I like maple," Zayn said.

"I hate cabinets," Draco replied. Silence reigned once more. Draco could have kicked himself.

"I mean, the maple is nice. I just. Cabinets," Draco muttered, hoping to get a conversation started once more.

"The bookshelf is maple, too," Zayn replied. "Do you like it better? I know I do. I love bookshelves."

"The bookshelf is alright," Draco said, wondering where the conversation was going. "And I know you love bookshelves. You're always in the library." _The bookshelf would look even better if I had you shoved up against it with my mouth on yours,_ he thought.

Zayn stared at him.

"What?" Draco asked. "Was it the library thing? I promise I'm not stalking you. I just happen to know you spend time there."

"Noooooo," Zayn replied. "It was the bit about shoving me up against the bookcase and making out with me."

Now it was Draco's turn to stare.

"I hadn't realized I had said that out loud," he said primly, hoping to salvage the situation.

"Hmm," Zayn intoned, noncommittally, then, "Maybe you should."

"Should what?"

"Should shove me up against the bookcase and make out with me."

Draco gaped. He could actually feel his mouth hanging wide open. This had come from nowhere. Since when did Zayn want Draco's tongue in his mouth? Zayn couldn't want Draco's tongue in his mouth. Draco must have misheard. Zayn must have asked him to... to reach a book for him. Because Zayn was dark and handsome, but Draco was tall, and could reach books.

"Oh, okay, which book did you need?" Draco asked.

Zayn slowly raised one perfect eyebrow, looking completely nonplussed.

"Well, now that you mention it, I may need the book on how your brain works. Considering, you know, how that was a total non-sequitur."

"Oh. What did you say, then? Because you can't possibly have said what I -"

Draco was interrupted by Zayn grabbing him and slamming him up against the bookcase. The bookcase rattled, but, whether through luck or magic, all of the books remained in place.

"I'm sorry," said Draco. "Did I say something to anger you? I -"

This time, Draco was interrupted by Zayn's mouth against his.

If Draco's mind weren't so muddled by confusion at the situation, he probably would have collapsed on the spot. Zayn Malik's flawless lips were pressed against his. Not just pressed against his lips, but _kissing_ his lips. Real kissing. Zayn Malik's perfect tongue, which normally resided inside Zayn Malik's perfect mouth, was currently making itself acquainted with the inner workings of Draco's mouth. He should have been sobbing tears of joy, but he was too bemused. Before he had a chance to sort his mind out and fully appreciate what was happening, the two of them heard a small cough, and immediately sprang apart.

They had forgotten about the portraits.

Albus Dumbledore looked somberly out at them from his frame.

"Zayn," he said, voice immersed in disappointment, "What were you doing with Mr. Malfoy, Zayn?"

Zayn looked abashed.

"Yes, what _were_ you doing with Mr. Malfoy?" Draco repeated, still confused.

"Well it didn't look like you were going to slam _me_ against the bookcase anytime soon," Zayn shot back, "so I took matters into my own hands. For which," he continued, tone becoming more serious, "I am deeply apologetic. I'm so sorry, Professor, really."

"I guess I just expected more from you, Zayn. I thought what we had was special... and then to see you being intimate with someone other than me - it's hard on an old man's heart, Zayn. It's very hard."

Zayn hung his head in shame.

"We do have something special," he said. "I was just being hotheaded. I guess. I guess, I mean, our conversations are nice, and I like looking at your painting, but it's not enough, you know? I just needed something physical. Draco is physical." Zayn turned his gaze to Draco and gave him a prolonged once-over. " _Very_ physical. Ahem. And I shouldn't have let that get to me, sir, I'm very sorry."

Draco felt even more confused now than he had when Zayn was kissing him. He thought that he ought to feel elated, as Zayn Malik had kissed him - kissed _him_ \- with full intent of doing so. Not by accident. He'd kissed Draco because Draco was _physical_ and Zayn had wanted to put his tongue into the mouth of someone _physical_ , like Draco. On the other hand...

"Euuurgh, what? You and Dumbledore? What? He's approximately a billion years old, Zayn, not to mention _dead_. Are you serious right now? Are you actually serious?"

Zayn looked at him defensively. "Just look at the brushwork on his portrait, though, Draco, really look at it. Such beauty. Such artistry. Look at the individual filaments of his hair - how perfectly captured by the artist. It could be a _-_ it could be - well, no muggle artist really compares. This is, I mean -" Zayn reached out to stroke gently at the canvas, eyes filled with reverence. "How can you not fall in love with it?"

Dumbledore listened to Zayn's words with a saddened expression. "You know I don't like when you say things like that, Zayn. It sometimes feels like you only appreciate the brushstrokes on my canvas."

Zayn looked askance. "That's not true. I like your mind, as well. But it truly is a beautiful painting. You! I mean you. _You_ are a truly beautiful painting. Not it. You. Definitely you."

Draco was being dumped for a portrait. He'd had Zayn for all of about ten seconds, and was already being dumped. For someone who Zayn couldn't even make out with. Someone who wasn't even alive. Draco couldn't believe he was being dumped for a _painting._ Even being dumped for Harry Potter would be better than this, he was sure. Suddenly, he worried that Zayn might also be with Potter.

"Are you having sex with Potter?" The words came out before he could stop himself.

Both Zayn and Dumbledore turned to stare at him. In fact, every portrait in the office turned to stare at him.

"What, Harry Potter?" said Zayn, looking completely flummoxed.

"No, _James_ Potter, I hear you've got a thing for pictures of dead people," Draco replied, snidely. " _Yes_ , of course I mean Harry Potter."

"Oh," said Zayn. "Er, no. No to both. I don't have a thing for pictures of dead people."

Zayn totally had a thing for pictures of dead people.

"I can't believe your dumping me for a picture of a dead person," Draco said. "I can't even be mad at you, because every time I look at your face I get distracted by how good you look. How can I be angry at that jawline? At those eyes? Even your nose is nice, how is that possible? Noses are ugly! _All_ noses are ugly, how is it possible that yours is so nice! Actually, maybe I can be mad at you. I can be mad at how _stupidly_ attractive you are. You should be forced to wear a bag over your head so no one can fall in love with you. What is this power you have? Are you a veela or something? You are. You must be. You couldn't get a dignified Malfoy such as myself to babble on like this if you weren't at least _part_ veela. You're veela, admit it."

"I'm, um. I'm not? But thanks. Honestly, Draco, sometimes I have no idea what you're on about."

"I'm on about being _in love with your dumb, ugly, stunning, stupid, hideous, beautiful ,wonderful, lovely, disgusting_ face,you idiot."

The face in question contorted into an indistinct sort of expression; it was still beautiful. Draco pressed on.

"And do you know what's more! I think Dumbledore should give his blessing for you to make out with me, like, 24/7, because I only got to make out with you for a couple of seconds, and I didn't get to properly enjoy it, because I was so focused on being amazed that we were actually kissing. Dumbledore needs to stop being selfish and share you with the people who are, you know, actually alive. He's dead, he had his time, he needs to stop preying on seventeen year old boys!"

"I can hardly _prey_ from a picture frame, my dear boy, it's hardly my fault if young men such as Zayn flock to my portrait, eager to partake in my wisdom."

"Oh, get over yourself, he hasn't got any interest in you. He'd rather be with whoever it is that painted you."

Dumbledore looked wounded, and Zayn shot Draco a dark look.

"I understand that you're hurt, Draco," said Zayn, "but Professor Dumbledore doesn't deserve that sort of treatment." He turned to Dumbledore. "I'm sorry about Draco, sir."

"Eurgh, stop calling him _sir_ and _professor_ ," Draco exclaimed. " _We_ were supposed to have the teacher/student fantasy thing! That's supposed to be _us._ You and me. Not you and Dumbledore!"

"I think I should just keep my face in a permanently confused expression around you, Draco," Zayn replied, "since it always ends up looking like that anyway whenever you talk. How could we have a teacher/student fantasy? You're my peer."

"You were going to tutor him," said an austere voice from the door, "Although I'm now beginning to wonder if that's a good idea."

"Professor McGonagall!" Draco and Zayn exclaimed in unison. Everyone had rather forgotten about the fact that they were in her office.

"Yes," she said. Her mouth was drawn and her eyes looked stern. "I'm not entirely sure _what_ is going on here, but I know enough to say that Mr. Malik has lost the right of ever stepping foot in this office again."

Draco looked delighted.

"You know that I can _travel_ to other portraits, right, Minerva?" replied Dumbledore.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," she replied thinly.

"You've always been my favourite teacher, Professor McGonagall," said Draco. "Have I ever mentioned that? My absolute favourite. And the best headmistress this school has ever seen."

"Stop flirting with McGonagall," said Zayn. "I thought you were interested in _me_."

Both Draco and McGonagall stared at him incredulously. Then -

"Out. Just, both of you, get out. I can't deal with this. Sort out the tutoring on your own."

Draco and Zayn left. Draco was ready to head back to his common room and try to force himself to become selectively blind in regards to Zayn Malik - to somehow block him from his radar. However, as they descended the great stone staircase, Draco felt something that gave him hope - it was Zayn Malik's lovely, slender fingers, interlocking with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to send me a prompt at my Dumbledore/One Direction blog, please visit dumbledirection.tumblr.com


End file.
